Disclaimer: Harry Potter still isn't mine.

Chapter Six: I Hope, I Think, I Know

Neville had never attended a wedding before and had no idea if it was normal to be this nervous. He sweated profusely in his brand new midnight blue dress robes as he paced around the twins' old room at the Burrow. He couldn't believe this was actually happening; surely useless, round-faced people like Neville Longbottom didn't marry smart, beautiful people like Ginny Weasley. If he made it through the day without fainting it would be some sort of miracle.

Of course, the Weasley brothers weren't much help. Fred and George kept offering him sweets to "relieve nerves," and Neville was somewhat insulted that they thought he was that thick. Bill repeatedly assured him that he would be standing by with his wand, just in case Neville needed to be Ennervated. Charlie and Ron had both laughed at this, and the teasing continued until their father entered the room.

"Boys, stop pestering the man on his wedding day. Neville is family and should be treated as such." Mr. Weasley paused, glancing around at his sons, who were snickering. "Scratch that; treat him better than you treat your family."

"But Dad, where's the fun in that?" Fred protested.

"Yeah, I thought Bill made a very fetching kitten on his wedding day," George added. Bill, however, didn't look remotely amused.

Mr. Weasley shot the twins a warning look before turning to Neville.

"How are you feeling, son?" he asked, an anxious look on his face.

"It…it doesn't feel real yet, sir," Neville managed.

"Stop with all this 'sir' nonsense…you're family," Mr. Weasley said firmly, clapping Neville on the shoulder.

Neville fidgeted from his seat on the bed and frowned. "In name only," he whispered before he could stop himself.

Mr. Weasley jerked his head towards the door. His sons apparently got the message and stumbled out of the room. Taking a seat on the bed, Mr. Weasley sighed.

"I know this situation is somewhat…unorthodox. Circumstances haven't allowed Ginny time to really mourn. You'll need to continue giving her space," Mr. Weasley said wisely.

Neville was silent. He knew Ginny needed time to mourn; he wasn't stupid. He just wondered how long they would have to live together before Ginny acted like they were married. This wasn't a subject he was about to discuss with her father, though – he suddenly wished he could actually talk to his own dad.

"Ginny wouldn't have to get married, you know. It would be much more difficult and dangerous, of course, but Molly gave her the choice two months ago," Mr. Weasley said finally. "She wants to marry you, which bodes well for the future, I think."

Neville still felt like he was going to be sick. Mr. Weasley must have noticed this, because he continued talking. "You know, I don't think Molly and I would have stayed married as long as we have if we weren't such good friends. Friendship is important in marriage, just as important as love, in my opinion."

Neville smiled then, finding some of his nerves to be gone. He and Ginny did have friendship, and that was something. He had every reason to be optimistic, really.

"Come on," Mr. Weasley said, tugging Neville's sleeve. "Let's get you married."

Looking back, Neville thought, the ceremony had been much better than he expected. Mrs. Weasley had arranged everything in the garden, much the same as it had been for Bill and Fleur's wedding, according to Ron. Ron and Hermione served as best man and maid of honor, respectively, which Neville had appreciated. It was a wonderful feeling, really, to have those two rally behind Ginny and himself.

Surprising himself, Neville hadn't stumbled as he made his way to the altar. He had glanced down at Bill to see the older wizard with his wand at the ready, but it turned out that Neville didn't need it – though he had thought he would when he saw Ginny.

She had been completely breathtaking in cream-colored dress robes trimmed with green. A wreath of flowers was set on her head, her thick hair flowing down in loose curls. Neville had been touched to see her wearing the freshwater pearl necklace he had gotten her for her birthday.

She had squeezed his hand encouragingly as her father gave her away. Mr. Weasley had kissed his daughter's cheek with tears in his eyes, lingering just a bit before joining his wife.

Neville was so busy looking at Ginny he hadn't been able to pay much attention to what Great-Uncle Algie said – it was a civil ceremony anyway and the words weren't very poetic. He had remembered his vows without any prompting, however, and had managed to look Ginny in the eyes when speaking. He hadn't fumbled with the ring when Ron handed it to him, and when he leaned in to kiss Ginny she hadn't resisted. It was little more than a formality, but it was enough to fill Neville with happiness and make his toes tingle. Ginny had smiled at him then – a clear, happy smile that made him realize everything really would be all right.

Mrs. Weasley and his gran both cried loudly from the front row. The Weasley brothers had all rolled their eyes at this display, though Neville swore at least Bill's eyes looked a little misty, too. Ron and Hermione had exchanged glances first with each other and with Neville and Ginny, and Neville saw that Hermione was smiling through traces of tears. Professor Lupin had looked at him fondly, and that Auror with the pink hair and weird name had smiled widely. So many people believed in them, it seemed.

At the far edge of the garden, for just a moment, Neville thought he could see a skinny figure with unruly dark hair smiling and nodding. When he looked again, though, the image had disappeared – it must have been a trick of the light.

"Ginny? Neville? Just one more picture, please?" Colin Creevey begged, holding up his camera. He hadn't officially been invited, but Luna had dragged him along.

Ginny sighed and leaned in closer to Neville. He could tell she was getting tired, but Neville knew he wouldn't get out of dancing that easily.

Floating lights of all different colors lit up the makeshift dance floor in the yard. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a feast that could have fed at least twice as many people as were actually there. Hermione had charmed a Muggle CD player to work without electricity, and she had put herself in charge of selecting appropriate wedding songs. She seemed to be having trouble keeping Mr. Weasley away, but she was laughing as he pestered her with questions.

What struck Neville as interesting was the fact that several partygoers, namely the scattering of Order members, treated the wedding reception as an excuse to finally celebrate the final destruction of Voldemort. The end of the war had been bittersweet, and no one who had known Harry well had celebrated at all. Instead, it was this day, August fifteenth, two months after Harry's death, that they finally rejoiced Voldemort's defeat.

"Is something wrong, Neville? You looked pretty far away just then," Ginny commented.

Neville shook his head and pulled Ginny close. "I think they're waiting for us to open the first dance. I'll try not to step on your feet this time."

Hermione smiled at Neville and Ginny as they approached the dance floor and changed the song to something slower. Neville's face flushed as he felt every eye in the room turn to him. He clung to Ginny nervously. They were dancing so closely together, in fact, that he could actually tell she was pregnant, when it was still impossible to notice just by looking. She rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed back and forth. This was much different than the formal dancing at the Yule Ball, and Neville realized he actually sort of enjoyed it.

"May I cut in?" Mr. Weasley asked after the third song ended. Neville let go of Ginny, who was immediately wrapped in a hug from her father. It was only then Neville realized that more people had started dancing.

Neville tried to get another glass of champagne, but he was interrupted by his gran. She held him at arm's length and surveyed him critically. He wasn't even embarrassed when she kissed his forehead, especially since she had swapped her vulture hat for a tamer one decorated with a small collection of fake grapes.

"You really are all grown up," she said gruffly. His formidable grandmother rarely displayed emotion, and today was only the third or fourth time he had ever seen her cry. He supposed it meant she was truly happy for him.

He and his gran danced for a bit, and Neville learned where he had inherited his atrocious dancing skills. His Uncle Marcellus soon cut in, though, and he found himself dancing with Hermione.

"Ron abandoned me for the food," she remarked with a laugh. "He claims his leg is still too injured for dancing, which is rubbish, of course."

Neville laughed at that, and Hermione sighed. They danced in silence for a few moments, and Neville noticed that either Fred or George was dancing a bit too vigorously with Ginny, who looked less than thrilled. Hermione's eyes followed his, and she smiled.

"She'll be all right, you know. I think she cares for you more than she is allowing herself to acknowledge," Hermione said quietly. "He really respected you…I know he would have approved." She kissed Neville's cheek and went off to drag Ron away from his fourth piece of wedding cake.

After dancing with his Aunt Agatha, Ginny again, and finally one of his cousins, he settled at the head table, where a bedraggled-looking Ginny was now drinking from a goblet of pumpkin juice. "I've danced with all my brothers except Ron, who's being a prat, been kissed by Auntie Muriel and cried on by my mum. I'm ready to sleep for three days," Ginny said with a groan. Neville nodded; the party was beginning to die down anyway.

"Come on," Neville said as he helped her up. He kept his arm around her as they walked back into the house to loud, inappropriate catcalls from the twins.

As his gran had expected, Ginny wanted to stay with her mum during her pregnancy, so Neville had moved into the Burrow by necessity. He hoped to have saved enough money to put a down payment on a house by January – he really didn't want to move back into his gran's house with his wife and Harry Potter's baby.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had seemed to understand that Ginny would need some space, so most of Neville's belongings were in the twins' room. He ducked inside to change out of his robes before joining Ginny in her bedroom.

His face reddened at the thought of actually sharing a room with Ginny. He knew the marriage needed to be as real as possible…he wanted it to be as real as possible…but the prospect made him extremely nervous. He was completely torn between what his heart and body told him he wanted and what his head told him Ginny needed. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

"Come in," Ginny said, her voice muffled. Neville opened the door to reveal Ginny wearing conservative pyjamas and sitting on top of a flowered quilt. She looked extremely uncomfortable as she played with the purple bow tied around the neck of a rather raggedy-looking stuffed cat.

"Um, hi," Neville mumbled, feeling suddenly naked in his flannel pyjama bottoms and T-shirt. The easy companionship they had shared since Hogwarts had seemingly evaporated.

"I'm really tired," Ginny said as she scooted over to the right edge of the bed. She placed the cat in the center.

"I'll just, um, sleep on the floor…or I could go back to the twins' room. I'm sure Ron's told you I snore, anyway," Neville said, his confidence ebbing completely.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "There's room for both of us on the bed, Neville…and I don't care if you snore." She rolled over on her side and faced the wall.

Unsure, Neville gingerly climbed into the bed, noting that the stuffed cat created an effective barrier. He leaned over to kiss Ginny goodnight, but she shifted just a bit at the last minute and he only caught the side of her mouth. Blinking, he settled back to his side of the bed, overwhelmed with emotion and just a little bit mad at himself. He couldn't push her. Turning over on his right side, he tried to get comfortable and closed his eyes, but it was no use. He was definitely going to need a long, cold shower come morning.

Ginny stared at the window, her eyes fixed on the slant of moonlight shining in through the flowery curtains. It seemed almost unnaturally quiet, which told her Neville was lying awake, too.

She couldn't quite believe that she was now Mrs. Neville Longbottom. Two months ago she had been completely in love with Harry Potter, somewhat despite herself. It had been especially cruel that her two worst suspicions were both confirmed on the same night.

Her mother had yelled, then been condescending. Her father was afraid for her safety. Her brothers alternated between sympathy and a desire to resurrect Harry so they could kill him personally. Hermione had drawn up a complicated at-home study schedule, most concerned that Ginny wouldn't take her N.E.W.T.s.

Through it all, Neville had been a quiet presence, being her friend without trying to tell her what to do. She couldn't help but love him after everything he had done for her, but she wasn't in love with him. That would almost be a betrayal of Harry's memory. Even the chaste kiss concluding her wedding had sent Ginny into a spiral of memories. Now, lying in the darkness, she couldn't help but think of the recklessness of that night, the feel of the grass under her fingers, the sense of freedom and completeness that she wasn't sure she'd be able to find again.

"Can't sleep either?" A voice broke into her daydream.

Ginny rolled over on her other side to see Neville's concerned face, which was partially obscured by Kitty. "Too much on my mind, I guess," she said softly.

"I know what you mean," Neville replied as he propped up his head with one hand. "Do you want to talk? Or maybe I can go downstairs and get you something to drink?"

Ginny giggled. He really was adorable. "I don't need anything to drink, thanks. I'm just really warm and I can't get comfortable – but that's not your fault," she amended, seeing the apologetic look on Neville's face. "I haven't slept well since I first suspected I was pregnant, and of course it doesn't help that it's summer. I don't know how I'm going to survive five more months of this."

Neville sifted in the bed, looking uncomfortable. "Well, it will be autumn soon…and I'll help you as much as I can." He grinned suddenly as he played with Kitty's purple ribbon. "After all, that's part of my job as your husband, right?"

Ginny gasped softly at hearing him actually say the word. Neville, too, seemed surprised at his own statement. They lay in awkward silence for some time until Neville yawned hugely. At last, Ginny heard the sounds of gentle snoring, and she was glad that he, at least, had found sleep.

A/N: Thanks for reading, and as always, I'd love to hear what you think.